


we only yesterday were worlds apart

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, BAMF Lydia Martin, Derek owns a bar, Hand Jobs, M/M, Matchmaker Lydia, Sharing Clothes, grad student Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll have you know that I did my <i>irresponsible</i> drinking in college and this is my <i>responsible</i> grad school drinking," Stiles replied with a grin.</p><p>Derek snorted.  "What's the difference?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	we only yesterday were worlds apart

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [tfln](http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-57541.html)
> 
> Taking prompts in August [here](http://marishna.livejournal.com/805275.html%20). Lyrics, TFLN, pictures, possible continuations of things I've started/already written (and I have plans for a lot of them but it's overwhelming BECAUSE there are so many!).

_Tuesday night_

**Stiles:** Scotty where r u? Waiting.

 **Scott:** Running late. B there soon.

Stiles sighed and ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to slump over the bar and take a nap.

A cardboard coaster landed in front of him and a shot of what looked like—well, it didn't matter what it looked like, it was put in front of him.

Stiles looked up and into the face of an angel. A dark haired, perfectly-scruffed, built angel.

"Thanks?" 

The bartender raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome?" he returned, mocking Stiles' tone.

"Sorry, just didn't realize I'd ordered," Stiles threw back, then downed the shot, grimacing at the burn on his throat. "Whoa. That'll get things moving."

"Looked like you could use it," the bartender said as he took the glass away. "Another?"

Stiles shook his head. "Maybe in a bit, waiting on a friend. Don't want to get too far ahead of him."

The bartender nodded. "That'll be five bucks."

Stiles paused before reaching for his wallet. He thought it was on the house but whatever. New bar, new rules. He paid up and the bartender left him alone but until Scott arrived Stiles could swear he felt the dude's eyes on him but every time he looked the bartender was busy wiping down the counter or helping someone else. 

Shot must've fucked him up.

_Friday night_

"This is… charming," Lydia said with a slight lip curl when she stepped inside the dark bar. Stiles grabbed her by the hand and led her to the bar.

"Give it a chance, Lyds. It's got the _best_ sangria, okay? Scott and I tried it this week and I know how much you loooove sangria," Stiles wheedled as he pushed her gently to a stool.

Lydia rolled her eyes and hopped up, brushing the non-existent dirt from the stool beside her and putting her purse down. "I'll try it for you, Stilinski. But that's the _only_ reason."

Stiles grinned and then, when he caught sight of him, waved at the bartender from Tuesday. He served him and Scott for a couple hours before disappearing, his shift presumably over. Stiles had to admit he was a little bummed cause the guy wasn't hard on the eyes and gave Stiles something to distract himself with once Scott started going on and on about Allison. Again. For the tenth time that night.

The bartender was wearing a tight grey t-shirt that did nothing to hide his obviously well sculpted chest and he had a towel slung over one shoulder as he sauntered up to Stiles and Lydia. He stared directly into Stiles' eyes until he reached their side of the bar and then looked over at Lydia, blank expression on his face. 

She sniffed at him derisively and Stiles laughed awkwardly.

"Hey, big guy. I was telling my friend here about the amazing sangrias you made on Tuesday and I want to order a pitcher for us," Stiles said quickly. He wanted to kick Lydia, to convey that she was being a bitch, but he knew he'd pay dearly for that and she didn't respond like Scott would in the same situation anyway. Scott would look wounded for a second, then roll his eyes.

Lydia would run Stiles over with her car.

The bartender nodded. "Coming right up," he said as he turned. "And it's Derek."

Stiles blinked and watched the strong back of the bart—Derek— as he prepared their order. 

Lydia kicked _him_.

"Ow!" Stiles yelped, reaching down to rub his shin. "What the fuck?"

"So _that's_ why you wanted to come here," she said with a knowing smile.

"What? N-no! Totally not! The first time I ever came here was Tuesday! I just got into town last week, how would I already be interested in someone?" Stiles sputtered.

"We'll see how good this sangria is and then I'll decide if I want to help you bag him," Lydia said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"I don't—that's not. I mean, it's not what. Um. Really? You think?" Stiles asked, dropping his voice and leaning in close to Lydia. 

She looked up with her calculating stare and caught Derek watching them as he added some garnish to their drink. He ducked his head and his back stiffened, turning just a touch more away from them.

Lydia smirked. "Oh yeah."

***

Two pitchers of sangria and three hours later Stiles was happily buzzed and Lydia's eyes were glassy like Stiles remembered from their high school parties. They'd moved to a booth to spread out and were howling with laughter as they caught up and one story lead to another. 

Suddenly Lydia sat up, her eyes trained on something across the room. She pushed at Stiles hard, forcing him to get out of the booth.

"What the hell?"

"You need to go to the bathroom. Now," Lydia said. She pushed him again and he almost stumbled. "Go!"

Stiles had a bewildered look on his face as he made his way through the bar that had filled up with other customers since they arrived. Derek was at the bar most of the night, working it with ease but he didn't really have the same charm that a lot of the other bartenders working with him did. The blonde one flashed a lot of cleavage and offered what a lot of guys probably thought was a private smile, just for them, but Stiles saw her give it to every single guy who she dealt with and he watched a lot of bills get stuffed into her tip cup.

The one with floppy hair and a half smile was sly and liked to lean in to hear the female customers order, making the experience intimate. He accepted more than a few scraps of paper throughout the night, presumably with phone numbers on them.

There were a few waitresses circulating but the one that served Stiles and Lydia introduced herself as Cora, was slim with dark hair and a sarcastic tone. She didn't flirt like the blonde one, didn't have the charm like the other guy at the bar, but she was _good_ at her job and she was sharp. Stiles took an instant liking to her but feared what would happen if she and Lydia ever teamed up. 

Stiles weaved around tables and customers until he got to the men's washroom and pushed his way in. It was a typical bathroom, nothing spectacular. Stiles shrugged and stepped up to the urinal. Might as well, since he was here, right?

The door opened behind him and Stiles ignored it, following the "guy etiquette" in a public bathroom.

The new arrival, however, didn't.

Stepped up to the urinal right beside Stiles, unzipped and let loose even though there were three other urinals that could have been between them.

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned his head away a little, just in case. This didn't seem like the kind of bar that guys cruised at and if this guy was looking for something in that regard he got his dick out for nothing.

"How's the sangria?"

Stiles whipped his head around and looked into Derek's eyes that were staring back at him, amused. Stiles was very incredibly aware that he was holding his penis and pissing in front of one of the hottest guys he'd ever seen in his life. 

"Uh, good?" 

That fucking eyebrow again. "I'm glad?" More teasing. Ha ha. 

Stiles finished, did the custom shake and tucked himself away swiftly so he could escape to the sink. Derek was quick behind him, taking the sink right next to him again.

"The sangria's new to the menu. I wasn't sure how well it would go over but Erica swore up and down about it," Derek said conversationally, like they weren't in the men's room.

Stiles spent longer than usual scrubbing his hands, making sure he worked between each finger with the soap. "No, it's really good. Lydia's super picky and she's thinking about ordering another one."

"Girlfriend?" Derek asked casually, keeping his eyes on his own hand washing.

"Friend. Best friend, really. One of them, anyway."

"The guy from Tuesday," Derek said and Stiles nodded. "So why this bar?"

"Hmm?" Stiles asked, rising his hands and reaching for the paper towel. Derek was right behind him again and Stiles was crowded against the sink as Derek's muscular arms reached to pull his own piece off the roll.

"Why'd you pick this bar? I've never seen you before."

Stiles shrugged. "Just moved to town and it's close to my apartment and school." Derek tilted his head, silently asking. "I'm in grad school at Berkeley and Scott's in a vet program here, too. I'm Stiles, by the way," he added, realizing he knew Derek's name but hadn't actually mentioned his own.

"So I guess I'll be seeing you a lot," Derek said and he sounded… pleased?

Stiles was about to reply, maybe do something stupid like ask him for a cup of coffee, but the bathroom door opened and the bouncer was there. 

"Erica's getting slammed out there, Derek. Need you back."

"Be right there, Boyd," Derek replied and tossed his paper towel into the garbage with a frustrated sigh. He started to leave but before he opened the door he turned back. "Have a good night, Stiles."

***

By the time Stiles got back to the table Cora was standing at the table, delivering another pitcher. Stiles grinned as he slid back into the booth.

"Decided to go for it, huh?"

"I didn't order this, I thought you did," Lydia said.

"It's on the house," Cora said. She winked at Stiles and left quickly.

Lydia turned to Stiles, arms crossed and eyebrow raised knowingly.

"Nothing happened."

She waited.

"I _swear_!"

_Wednesday night_

"Aren't you supposed to be studying or working on papers or something?" Derek said by way of greeting when Stiles arrived at the bar with Scott and Allison in tow.

"I'll have you know that I did my _irresponsible_ drinking in college and this is my _responsible_ grad school drinking," Stiles replied with a grin.

Derek snorted. "What's the difference?"

"About thirty thousand dollars and a greater sense of panic that I'm ruining my life," Stiles replied, deadpan.

Derek laughed, an honest-to-god laugh. "Nice."

"So you know Scott," Stiles pointed to his best friend, and then at Allison. "And that's his girlfriend Allison. We're celebrating Scott officially finishing his first level exams."

Derek poured a shot and pushed it across the bar. "On the house, then. Congrats."

Scott accepted it, toasted silently and downed it with only a slight grimace. "Thanks, man."

"No problem. I'll just put it on his tab," Derek said, nodding at Stiles, who glared back. Of course he would.

***

By midnight Stiles was just past buzzed and trying to slow down. He asked Erica, the blonde one with the great rack, for water for his past two rounds while Scott and Allison kept drinking. He wasn't the DD but that didn't mean he wanted to wake up too fucked in the morning. He had office hours for his undergrad class at 2pm the next day so there was time.

He slipped away from the table again but Allison and Scott didn't seem to notice, too wrapped up in each other for anything else. He went to the bathroom, closing his eyes and holding back a sigh at how good it felt.

When he came out he heard his name called from the open door to his left, that seemed to lead to the alley. He approached cautiously, wondering if he was hallucinating. He stuck his head outside and saw Derek sitting on a stack of wooden pallets.

"Hiding?" Stiles asked with a smile, stepping outside. He didn't anticipate the step as well as he would have sober and fumbled just a little but Derek was there in a second, holding him steady and making sure he was okay.

"I'm good," Stiles said softly but he didn't want Derek to let go.  
 Derek didn't seem to want to let go.

"You drive me crazy," Derek whispered, eyes wide and searching on Stiles', like he couldn't control what he was saying. "You keep coming in here with all these people who I think you're with and it makes me so jealous."

Stiles furrowed his brow. " _Why_?" 

Derek made a noise in the back of his throat, something frustrated and wild, then ducked and captured Stiles' mouth with a bruising kiss, holding him by the upper arms tightly so Stiles couldn't do anything but clutch at Derek's waist and try to hold on.

When Derek pulled back he pressed his forehead against Stiles', both of them breathing harshly into each other. Derek grimaced and he tried to pull back but Stiles held on to him, catching him by the shirt and tugging him back into another sloppy, wet kiss. He opened his mouth to Derek who moaned and pushed his tongue against Stiles', tasting him, duelling with him.

The next time Derek pulled away he rested his face in Stiles' neck, rubbing his beard against his skin, and rasped, "Stiles, you're drunk. We can't do this."

Stiles laughed and pulled Derek's hand to the front of his pants where his cock was straining against the fabric. "Derek, I'm buzzed, sure. But I've been drinking water for the past hour. And if I don't get your cock in my mouth or your hand on my dick I'm going to jerk off right here in this alley."

Derek bit down on the cords of Stiles' neck lightly, drawing a gasp and hip thrust from Stiles. He grabbed Stiles' hand and started leading him further into the alley.

"Uh, the alley thing was a figure of speech, you know," Stiles said dubiously. Derek looked back and rolled his eyes, then unlocked a door further down the building. He ushered Stiles inside and directed him up the stairs—three goddamn sets of them with Derek's hands on his ass the whole way—that led to an open concept loft with a kitchen on the left, living room to the right, and what looked like a small media centre further in.

"Wow," Stiles breathed. He didn't have much time to take in his surroundings because Derek was pushing him against the kitchen counter, mouthing at his neck. Derek shoved at Stiles' t-shirt, pushing it up his torso and running his hands over his flat stomach. Stiles pulled it over his head, tossing it across the room and then reached for the hem of Derek's. Derek raised his arms easily and ducked his head when it came off.

Stiles was torn between running his hands through Derek's mussed up hair and tonguing his nipples until Derek begged him to stop but Derek had other ideas, He picked Stiles up easily (yeah, those shirts didn't hide anything but _seeing_ what was under them was something else) who wrapped his legs around Derek's waist and carried him through the loft while kissing whatever skin he could reach.

Around a dividing wall was the bedroom, raised up a bit and with the bed as the glorious focal point. Derek laid Stiles down on top of his made bed and softly kissed his way down Stiles' body to his pants' button. Stiles writhed on the bed as Derek ran his fingers under the waistband, getting so close but not enough.  
 Stiles sat up straight and reached for Derek's pants. "Seduction and foreplay can come later, okay? Right now I need you," he demanded, making quick work of Derek's belt, and then the button and zipper. Derek let him shove the pants down without fanfare and stepped out of them helpfully, kicking them away. Stiles felt his dick throb in his own restrictive pants at the sight of Derek in only a pair of black boxer briefs.

"Your turn," Derek said and before Stiles could say anything he was on his back again while Derek stripped him of his pants. They ended up somewhere in the room, who the fuck cared?

Stiles tried to reach out for Derek but he evaded Stiles' hands and slipped around the bed to his side table where he rooted through it and pulled out a bottle of lube. He pushed his underwear down and Stiles whimpered, wanting to drag them off with his teeth.

"Next time," Derek said, voice heavy with promise and Stiles realized he'd said that out loud. Derek kneeled on the bed, and Stiles scrambled to join him further up while he tried to push his own underwear down. Derek laughed at him and helped him strip them off so they were looped around one ankle still but Stiles didn't fucking care because Derek was pouring lube into his hand and pressing himself against Stiles' side, lining their cocks up.

He his hand around them both and stroked them slowly, letting the lube work around them. Stiles leaned his head against Derek's collarbone and sucked a mark into his skin there, unable to stop the soft undulations his hips were already making.

"I'd like to say upfront that this won't be a testament to my usual stamina," Stiles gasped out. Derek started thrusting into his grip, against Stiles' cock and they both moaned.

"Not. No—no judging here," Derek grit out between clenched teeth. Stiles looked up and saw his eyes were closed. Stiles licked his palm and reached down to join with Derek's hand. As soon as he did Derek's eyes snapped open and his mouth dropped. " _Fuck_."

"Soon," Stiles whispered and leaned in to flick his tongue over Derek's nipple like he wanted to earlier. Derek spasmed into their joined hands and that's all it took for him to come over them both. Stiles scooped up Derek's come and jerked himself quickly and came on Derek's stomach, painting his still-twitching abs.

Stiles slumped against Derek, pushing him back against the bed, and wriggled until he was pressed against the mess between them. He rubbed Derek's abs, loving the look of Derek with his come all over him, marking him. Derek seemed to like it, too, because his cock twitched interestedly.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles and held him tight while they both breathed heavily and came down. Stiles rubbed his sweaty forehead against Derek's shoulder, who didn't care. 

"How long before you can get it up so I can blow you in the shower?" Stiles asked. 

Derek cursed and rolled over on top of Stiles, kissing him soundly.

_Thursday morning_

Stiles woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. His stomach growled before he even opened his eyes and he giggled to himself quietly. He was a little thrown when he looked around and realized he wasn't in his own apartment. He rolled out of bed naked and padded to the bathroom that was a mess of towels from the night before to piss.

He found a pair of Derek's track pants in the bathroom and tugged them on, enjoying how loose they were around his cock and how slouchy they were on him.

Derek was only in his boxer briefs when Stiles walked into the kitchen, clearly brave enough to cook bacon bare chested. Derek smiled at Stiles and made him feel free to wrap his arms around Derek's waist from behind and kiss his shoulder blades. He wanted to drag his tongue around the spiral tattoo on his back again but he needed sustenance to keep his strength up first.

"Oh, man," Stiles said suddenly, moving to lean against the cupboards so he could see Derek's face. "You just left the bar without saying anything. Are you going to get in trouble?"

Derek laughed. "I think it'll be okay."

Stiles frowned. "How so?"

"Stiles, I live above the bar." Stiles shook his head, not understanding. "I own the building. And the bar."

"You _own_ the bar?" 

"For five years now. Pretty sure if the boss wants to sneak away he's allowed."

Stiles sidled closer to Derek, ran a finger up his arm. Derek looked down and seemed to realize Stiles was wearing his pants for the first time and his eyes glazed over a bit.

"Does that mean if someone wanted to visit the boss in the stock room, maybe drop to his knees under the desk…"

Derek's mouth dropped open and his breathing was raspy. "I think the boss would have a hard time saying no."

Stiles grinned as he sank to the floor.

 _Thursday afternoon_

Something clicked for Stiles after he saw his last undergrad seeking advice for her midterm.

 **Stiles:** Scott, turns out the bartender I fucked is the bar owner. WHY THE FUCK DO I PAY FOR HALF MY DRINKS? IS SEX NOT TIP ENOUGH?


End file.
